<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Crutches by catras1mp</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27972386">Crutches</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/catras1mp/pseuds/catras1mp'>catras1mp</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:48:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,050</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27972386</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/catras1mp/pseuds/catras1mp</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There are darker sides to power. Adora knows this, and now she’s learning to live with the consequences. Catra knew this far before Adora, and she regrets that knowledge. They each have their crutches. The ones that keep them sane and safe, or so they think.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adora &amp; Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Adora - Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>tw: this entire fanfic is self-harm and depression, if that triggers you, please stay away</p><p>this is set at the very start of season 5</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>      I remember it like it was yesterday- falling out of the skiff and landing in that bush. Waking up and being drawn to the sword like nothing else in the word mattered. I remember touching it and nearly going blind. I remember not being able to pull my hand away, as though it was glued to the sword. An echoing feminine voice -Light Hope- flashes of places, people, and things I’d never seen. I remember hearing that same voice call my name, and then I remember hearing Catra call over her, call me back to life. I don’t remember it all because it was the first time I saw the sword. I remember it all because it was the first time I met the pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      The searing, burning lava that flowed through my veins. The ice-cold, fragile crystals that threatened to shatter at the slightest touch. Those crystals had replaced my bones. It’s the pain that I remember the most. And then those eyes, Catra’s eyes. The panicked ones that searched mine and stopped every ounce of pain. The first and last time they stopped the pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The first time I transformed felt like nothing I had ever felt before. My hands had been tied, I was Bow and Glimmer’s prisoner, while they were about to get eaten by an elemental. Just wrapping my hands around the the hilt of the sword sent electricity buzzing up my arms and down the rest of my body. When the blade of the sword collided with the bug’s pincer’s, I felt the lava enter my bloodstream again. This time, it was instantaneous. My bones reverted to that crystalline state, and as those five words passed my lips, all I could see were rainbows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>      But who knew rainbows meant so much suffering? The pain was excruciating. I remember doubling over, wanting to cry out. And the next thing, I knew, I was glowing. Becoming me again hurt less somehow. That first time, I hit the ground and was distracted very easily. It felt like all of my bones snapped black into their solid places when I touched the ground, just like my blood stopped bubbling and boiling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The first few times I became She-Ra after that, the pain was nearly unbearable. And then, once I realized Catra was gone, that she didn’t care, that she chose the Horde over me, the pain became a crutch. It became my way of living. She-Ra was my medicine. She distracted my heartache with physical, bone-shattering, hair-pulling, pain. I mentioned it to Bow once and laughed. “I think some of Perfuma’s friends might really like you, then.” When I didn’t get what he meant, he tried to explain “hippies” to me and Glimmer made him stop. Every transformation was addicting, spellbinding, soul-curing. Heart-healing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     And yet now, I’m on my knees, somehow in more pain than She-Ra had ever previously put me through. The power at the Heart of Etheria ripping through my body, slowly killing me, burning me away cell by cell. Thinking about all the pain, every transformation, but what gives me solace are those eyes. Blue and yellow, they ground me bring me back. The next thing I know, I’m shattering the sword, She-Ra, the pain. My saving grace. I’m shattering the one thing that’s kept me alive. God, what have I done? </span>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Catra - Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>      For the first few weeks after she left, I thought I saw her at the ends of hallways, heard her laugh echoing around corners, felt her hands where are they weren’t. Where they were never. Where they should’ve been. But they never will be. Because Adora made a choice and she left me. She made a promise and she broke it. She broke her promise, she broke my heart, and she broke me. So these birth-given talons broke my skin. Punctured my thighs, my stomach, my shins, the bits of skin I knew I’d never share with anyone, because all I ever wanted was to share them with her. Hordak made me Force Captain, and then it wasn’t about losing her. It was about the fact that she didn’t just stop wanting me, it was that she wanted to get rid of the horde- she wanted to get rid of me. She had to hate me. The pain I felt, the taunting and teasing in my mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>         The pain was my first crutch, but once Shadow Weaver was out of my way, destroying the rebellion became my second. Any time her path crossed mine, though, I would wake (if I ever slept at all) with fresh wounds on my arms. I threw myself into work, thinking no one would ever see my crutches, because clearly Adora didn’t want to. But there was that night, on the boat, with Scorpia… she asked about them later, but they were my crutches and my burden to bear. She was never meant to see them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     And then the Crimson Waste happened. And of course, perfect Adora was the key to everything. My scars ached as I watched her body get flung onto the cold floor of Hordak’s sanctum. The pain in her eyes, like she expected mercy from me, when she hadn’t considered giving me any. I almost wanted to steal her away, pretend nothing had ever happened, but my crutches stung with rejection. I know she would never want me like that. She kept pushing and pushing, relentlessly, telling me what I had to do, never even considering what her choices had already made me do. How much blood had been inadvertently split by her hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>      So I flipped the switch. I started the portal. She wanted and took and took. Adora never stopped taking. I would’ve given her the world if she would just, just ask. But that’s not the world she wants. She wants righteousness. And justice. But that’s not what’s coming. I’m watching what’s coming, what just destroyed Hordak and is going to destroy Sparkles if I don’t do something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    I’ll do something, and I’ll give her the world I can, but not the world I want, because that would be asking her to love me, and she and I both know that’s not possible. Loving me, that’s a pain even my scars can’t feel. That’s too far gone, too deep. Aren’t I too far gone, though? What am I doing? I’m defending the Queen of the Rebellion. And for what? A princess who doesn’t want me? I’m in over my head. There’s no turning back now. God, what have I done?</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Adora - Now</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Adora learns that Glimmer is gone and begins to spiral.<br/>TW!: Self-harm and thoughts of suicide.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sorry it’s been so long and that this is kinda crappy, i got hit with inspiration but then it vanished ?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gone. Gone. Glimmer’s gone. Those words swirled around in my head for hours after Bow spoke them. His eyes were full of tears, and those tears ran down his face. Gone. She’s gone. And my heart skipped a beat, my stomach fell through my feet. But my body’s reaction wasn’t for Glimmer alone. Bow, in his inability to form complete sentences over his shock of losing Glimmer, had mentioned seeing Catra there moments before Glimmer had been beamed up in a flash of light. And now, my best friend and whatever Catra is to me, are missing. Probably stuck with a mass murderer.<br/>
     It’s been two weeks. I miss Glimmer. I miss the Best Friends Squad. I miss sleepovers in my room. I miss having a room. I miss the sword. I miss the pain. I miss She-Ra. I saw Lonnie and her boyfriends last week out of the corner of my eye. They were running. She looked… different. I don’t know how to explain it. I wanted to go over and say something, but I didn’t know what. Her words echoed in my brain. We were your friends. In a way, I’ve hurt her and Kyle just as much as Catra did I’m sure of it. So, in the end, I chose to walk away.<br/>
So much time has gone by. I tackled a clone the other day. I’ve lost so much, I’m losing my grip. I just wanted answers. Where Glimmer was? Where Catra was? The second line question didn’t come out, though. Scorpia was there. I didn’t want to hurt her. I knew Catra hurt her. Catra hurt all of us. And yet, I still want to save her. I’d kill to know why.<br/>
     I’ve been dreaming of the sword, and of She-Ra. Of the person I used to be. Of the person I broke. I just want her back. I want them all back. I’ve taken to throwing myself into battle to feel something. Mostly pain. At least part of me can feel something other than numbness, even if the only way to achieve it is to give my remaining friends heart attacks everytime I see an opening. Sometimes, I think of death. How easily I would accept it. How easy it would be to throw myself head first off of a cliff, or into the sharp end of a weapon. And then I remember Bow and our friends. They’ve already lost so much. Our home, our land… Glimmer. 
    And then I choose to live. Bow will outstretch his hand to me, pull me off the floor. He’ll hold me when I cry, and then I’ll hold him. He’s become the only steady thing left. And then I miss it all once more. What we have left should be enough. We should be enough. But I want more. I’ve always wanted more.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Catra - Know</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catra deals with the knowledge that Horde Prime knows she has feelings for Adora.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He knows. He knows Adora is more than an enemy. She was my friend once. Now… god, I don’t know. But he knows. Have I always been this obvious? Did they know, back in the Horde? No, that’s ridiculous. No one cared enough to even try to notice. Except maybe Scorpia. I was horrible to Scorpia. Lonnie probably knew at some point. Rogelio, too. Shadow Weaver… She was a master of manipulation. Of course she knew. Did they all know? Even Hordak?<br/>  Did Adora know? Of course not, she doesn’t even understand her own feelings at times. At least, that’s how it used to be. She became a princess, joined that stupid rebellion. The rebellion that’s sure to get squashed like a bug under Prime’s foot. Once he gets his hands on Sparkle’s superweapon, they’re dead. All of them. Even Adora. <br/>  Death. Death is cold… and empty. It hurts to think about death. About the deaths I’ve caused. About death itself. There’s nothing left when you die. Does that make me dead? There’s nothing left for me on Etheria. No one left to care about me. No one to fight. Or fight for. That list is empty. Like space used to be. An empty black sky. Now, its filled with stars, planets, asteroids, moons, and ships. Horrible Horde ships. I can’t keep looking at that endless horizon. Does Sparkle know what it looks like? I doubt it. There’s no windows in her cell. Which way was it again? I’ll just wander. I’m sure I’ll find her eventually. <br/>   At least on Etheria, I was surrounded by soldiers. I might’ve been alone, but I was alone in crowds. Mobs? No, that villianizes us. To Adora, we were the villians. To Sparkle, too. I wonder if Scorpia saw the light, saw what we were doing, and realized it was wrong. I knew it was wrong. I’ve always known. But Adora… she had to go and leave me, didn’t she? She had to go and make me a monster. Her enemy. I never wanted that. I never wanted any of this. She never left me a choice, though. She wanted more than anything the Horde could offer. More than I could offer. Did she ever ask me what I wanted? No, of course not. Adora wanted what she wanted, and she was going to get it. So what if she was selfish at times? It doesn’t change the facts.<br/>  Adora wanted to be a hero. Scorpia wanted a friend. Entrapta wanted science. Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio just wanted credit. What did I want? Not violence, that’s for sure. Not bloodshed, not losing everyone I ever cared about. What did I want? What I’ve always wanted. What I still want. The girl who always wanted more, I guess. Scratch that. It’s not a guess. It’s a fact. And now, it’s a fact that the “Emperor of the Known Universe” knows.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>